


a lack of appetite

by sunset_oasis



Series: Rhythms of Love [19]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/M, Optimistic Ending, includes detailed description of how the female protagonist feels about food, spoiler alert: it isn't flattering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-07-31
Packaged: 2018-12-09 06:57:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11663952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunset_oasis/pseuds/sunset_oasis
Summary: In which Padma didn't like to eat, and Blaise had a self-appointed mission.





	a lack of appetite

**Author's Note:**

> disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter

 

 

Sometimes Padma wondered why it was possible to feel both hungry and not-wanting-to-eat at the same time. Other times, she just accepted it as a constant in her life.

She wasn't ever a big fan of eating. But sometimes it wasn't that bad, it was sort of tolerable even if it wasn't enjoyable. Sometimes it was worse, putting food into her mouth made her feel nauseating, and her chest tightened slightly. Even at the first few bites she felt filled up and overwhelmed.

Today's one of the worse days.

That –  _filled up_  feeling didn't actually reach the stomach, which still felt a bit hungry. But her chest felt ingested with the heavy taste of food and she just couldn't eat more. To quell the hunger without actually eating, she drank some water. It made her feel full and she continued drinking to the point where she felt it was too much, that she was bursting, and decided that yes, she was indeed full.

She gagged slightly, and a part of her wanted to throw up. But she knew she actually wouldn't throw up, more like just wanting to burp, and as discomforting as that might be, it was also comforting in a way because she knew she wouldn't actually vomit anything.

Padma sighed, feeling relieved as she decided that she'd done with eating, as she boxed the leftover for next meal. Until then, she wouldn't have to worry about this unpleasant business.

 

* * *

 

Fruit was usually easier, probably because it wasn't oily or salty or anything. Damn, but she missed her mother's cooking. Her mother had always cooked for their family while Padma had been back home, but now she's in the States for college, she had to either resort to cooking by herself or eating out.

She honestly hated eating out sometimes. First of all, it was hell lot more expensive, and the taste were usually too –  _heavy_  for her. While there were quite a selection of Asian food that felt closer to home, which was slightly tastier than American food, but she wasn't much enthusiastic about it either.

Which kind of just left the choice of cooking by herself. It was a struggle at first – she had never cooked back at home. Parvati was a good cook and learnt from their mother, but Padma wasn't ever passionate about food and therefore wasn't interested in learning to cook either, so she usually ended up doing other chores while Parvati cooked with their mom.

She hadn't minded that much, until she had the need to cook for herself. It took a while to even master the simplest kind of dishes, but she managed. Truth be told, she was more than often too lazy to cook and couldn't find the heart to do it, but she learnt to force herself, and develop a love for preparing easier stuff. Such as canned soup, or oatmeal (Christ, oatmeal was a  _blessing_  to this world, she thought), or frozen spaghetti that just needed to be heated.

 

* * *

 

She was pretty certain that nobody noticed. Okay, so her parents always frowned and said she looked a bit too thin to be healthy whenever she visited home, and Parvati would also tutted disapprovingly, but she wasn't at home that often so it wasn't that much a big deal. She just nodded and said yeah she's eating don't worry.

Her parents would also suggested that maybe she should exercise more, and she would just continue nodding but inwardly bit back a retort. Sure, she wasn't the athletic type, and she didn't go to gym or whatever, but she thought she walked quite a lot since she'd had to walk around the school every day without a car. She walked to a lot of places – she liked walking. Plus, it didn't actually raised her appetite much, because when she was tired she didn't feel like eating. (To be fair, she didn't feel like it when she wasn't tired either, but whatever.)

Her friends sometimes commented in surprise when they saw how she'd said she was full after a few bites, but she made excuses saying that she'd eaten earlier or something. It wasn't a big deal. Her roommate Pansy was out a lot on her own, so she never noticed that about Padma either.

So it kind of surprised her how quickly Pansy's best friend who occasionally visited her noticed.

 

* * *

 

The thing was, Blaise Zabini was an asshole who liked interfering other people's business, Padma thought. And unlike some people who liked getting involved in other people's stuff but weren't actually observant enough to grasp the truth, Zabini was  _scarily_  insightful and sharp.

Like he would invite Padma to go out with Pansy and him to dinner, as she rejected and ate a small cup of cup noodles back at home, and he would come back and narrowed his dark slanting eyes at her and said disbelievingly, "That's all you ate for dinner?"

And Padma's first instinct was to lie, but while she might be a better liar on other topics, when it came to food it just seemed harder because perhaps you have to have a little more knowledge and passion on a topic to lie about it, and she simply didn't.

Or perhaps it was just hard to lie when Zabini was looking at her, sharp and piercing as if he had every right to be involving  _himself_  in  _her_  business.

Damn, how she loathed him.

"I wasn't hungry," Padma shrugged.

"You never seem to be," Zabini arched an eyebrow.

Padma glared at him defiantly, "So? It's not like I  _completely_  don't eat."

"Huh," he looked at her, speculative. She didn't like how observant he seemed to be, how he seemed to be able to see through her. "You don't like eating, do you?"

She scowled at him and repeated, "It's not like I completely don't eat." It wasn't an admission, not really, except it was close enough to be one.

 

* * *

 

Zabini, utterly annoying prat that he was, apparently made it his mission to cook for her after that. He stayed here even when Pansy was out with her girlfriend Granger, saying that he liked their kitchenware. Padma wanted to go out for food just to avoid him, but gave up soon after because he insisted on tagging along and most of the restaurant food just wasn't to her taste.

She ended up surrendering and letting him cook for her.

He seemed to grasp her preference for lighter tastes food quickly, and altered his cooking accordingly. He even managed to know what dishes she didn't loathe so much, though Padma had no idea how he'd gotten that knowledge.

He was unsettling.  _Interfering_.  _Goddamn annoying_. Though she did have to admit it was nice to have someone cook for her, catering to her tastes. It made eating less painful. It would never be enjoyable, but at least it seemed so slowly become a tolerable chore.

 

* * *

 

Sometimes Padma would forget that she hated Zabini. Sometimes she had to try hard to remind herself that Zabini's just a nosy asshole who liked meddling in other people's business, who liked to think he had a say in how she lived her life when he bloody well  _didn't_. Because it wasn't easy to hate Zabini, as much as Padma wanted to. He was smart and charming and goddamn handsome, and she – she  _might_  just be charmed.

_Fuck._

 

* * *

 

"What's going on between you and Blaise?" Pansy asked one day.

Padma shrugged. "He liked to cook for me, so I let him."

" _Let_  him?" Pansy sounded amused.

"Uh huh," Padma said, and felt compelled to add, "reluctantly."

"Right, reluctantly." Pansy replied, "That's all?"

"That's all," Padma said firmly.

Pansy looked skeptical, and Padma couldn't really blame her – she was starting to feel a bit skeptical herself.

 

* * *

 

When Blaise went away on a trip with some of his friends, and Padma had to resort back to her original two unappealing options (eating out or cooking by herself) more often, she realized, with horror, that she might actually miss him.

It was a terrifying thought. She did not  _miss_  people. She was independent, and she didn't need a man to survive, no matter how good a cook that man might be.

To prove that she truly,  _totally_ ,  _definitely_  didn't need him, she promptly shut the door on him when he came back from the trip and visited her and Pansy's apartment again.

Pansy was looking way too amused.

Padma wondered if she should get a new roommate, one with a less annoying best friend.

 

* * *

 

She thought that she would stop missing him. She  _hoped_  that she would stop missing him.

She didn't.

 

* * *

 

He seemed to have taken her hint and left her alone, to her immense relief.

For a few days, anyway.

Then he showed up again, on their doorstep, his eyes darkening in concern as he took in her thin figure, and she glared back.

"May I come in?" He asked, calm and polite and she gritted her teeth.

"No," she replied, sharp and crisp.

"I see," he nodded slowly, "in that case, I brought you some stuff I cooked. I don't have to come in, but I'd prefer you take it. Please?"

Something stirred inside her and she didn't know how to describe the feeling, and she suddenly just wanted to cry.

She didn't.

"No thanks," Padma said coolly. Well, she could take it and not eat it, and leave it for Pansy or whatever, but she thought she had to make a statement. Taking it would implying that she needed him, and she _didn't_ , not at all, so she definitely shouldn't accept it. " _I don't need you, Blaise._ "

She wondered if he was going to say something like how she apparently couldn't take care of herself, how she so obviously needed him. If he did, she would probably slam the door in his face or something.

He didn't. (Of  _course_  he didn't, bloody fucking Zabini.)

"I know," he said simply, "I've always liked that about you."

She stared at him.

"It isn't easy for you to let other people do things for you –" of  _course_  that wanker also figured this out, she supposed she shouldn't be surprised "— and yet you let me. I'd like to think that you at least trust me, to a certain degree."

She continued to stare at him, unblinkingly.

"I know you don't need me, Padma," he finally said, and her throat suddenly felt dry for some unfathomable reason, "but do you  _want_  me? Because I know that _I_  want you."

Their eyes met, and she felt some emotion whirled through her, as she relented, "I – probably." She took a step back and motioned him to come inside, "Come in."

He looked into her eyes, and for the first time, she seemed to sense some nervousness under his always calm expression, and she saw the nervousness slowly subsided, replacing with something warmer, something she didn't know if she understand. He smiled, slowly, and she felt her own lips pulling up slightly, too.

"Well," she drawled, "I recall someone mentioned bringing food?"

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](https://ff-sunset-oasis.tumblr.com)


End file.
